Denial
by WallpaperGoesOrIDo
Summary: I hadn't seen him for years when we were suddenly thrust together again.  I had been sent to kill his boss, the Vongola Tenth. AU psycho!Gokudera. Mentions of 8059.


Disclaimer: I don't own it.

I think I miss the gunfire the most.

I miss the bullets whizzing by head, so close I could hear the high pitched whine as they flew past. They were close enough to smile as they passed, promises of a hit in the future glinting off their asymmetrical bodies. They wanted me almost as much as I needed them.

The shots were fired rapidly but no one was as quick as me. To them it was serious. It was life and death. But to me it was just a game; a game that I was really good at. I could dodge and duck, roll and run, leaving nothing but breathless bodies and blood in my wake.

It wasn't just the adrenaline, the rush of endorphins that spun me round and round 'til I hardly knew friend from foe and dead from alive. It was the feeling of utter infiniteness; the feeling of completion.

It was during those moments, when we were outnumbered or hurt or defeated, that I became an entirely new entity. I shone. I danced. I laughed at the blood bath surrounding me not out of a sick, morbid fetish, but out of some psychotic glee. It was just what I was good at. Some people are good at cooking, or baseball. I was just good at killing.

I was never quite sure who I was doing it for. The family of course never cared much for me. I was a bit too rogue for their tastes. I was useful, of course, but there were the few occasions where my talent at ending lives overtook my ability to determine who exactly the enemy was. The strangers who I filled with holes, were they my really any different from those who took aim beside me? I never understood the distinction. They were all the same fragile, careless beings. They were all marionettes in death; a sort of gracelessness about them as they fell, the strings all cut at once.

Dynamite was really my only companion I suppose. It never argued or bled or died unless I told it to. I didn't have to pretend to care for it. It was a constant that I had come to depend on. Needing it, meant getting rid of it, watching as it burst in a cacophony of light and sound and red… always red. It was the only relationship I depended on, and I liked that.

Of course _he _changed all that.

Him and his goddamn fucking smiles and laughter and ability to care for someone like me. I never understood how he did it; I never understood why he bothered. But I guess that's what drew me to him, a lack of understanding.

I hadn't seen him for years when we were suddenly thrust together again. I had been sent to kill his boss, the Vongola Tenth. I knew little to nothing about the family. Only that they tended to operate in Japan. That made me do a double take the first time I heard it. To think, there might be others like me. Others would had been cast out of Italy for something as silly as blood.

He caught me off guard. I had fought against swordsmen before, but of course he was different. He was tall with dark spiky hair, and deep brown eyes. I remember thinking he looked good. But it didn't matter. I was just going to kill him and keep killing until his boss was at my feet bleeding out. I didn't feel anything. At least, that's what I kept telling myself.

Then he came at me. His eyes were bright but it was a different brightness then my own. He was serious about the game, but to him it was all about defense. I could tell he wasn't one for killing. He probably had a heart, a conscience, maybe friends, maybe a wife or girlfriend. I still didn't care.

I wondered if he even remembered me. It had been a long time since I'd seen him in an alley in Venice, sitting in a puddle of his own blood. I thought he might knew the person I was looking for, but turned out he was just some random Mafioso from a family I hadn't heard of since I was fourteen. He spoke to me in broken Italian and I laughed at him. Something though, made me help the poor son of a bitch.

Later that night, after I'd bandaged him up, I watched him sleep. I felt a little creepy, but it wasn't a new sensation. We spent the next three days together. I came to hate him. At least, that's what I kept telling myself.

I puffed once on my cigarette. He was still charging. Suddenly my arm slapped the air and I braced myself for the fireworks.

There was nothing.

My eyes frantically combed the air; there was a split second of silence as I saw my dynamite falling in two distinct pieces. The bastard had cut it in half. The silence was over as quickly as it started and before I knew it he was inches from me and there was a sword protruding from my middle. He looked sorry, I definitely remember that. I was sorry too. Sorry that I'd been stabbed, not that I was now going to blow him into so many pieces that whoever came to clean up would search in vain for them all.

I still didn't care about him. I was mumbling it beneath my breath.

_("Just another kill, just another kill, just another kill…")_

I leapt backwards quickly, the sword exiting me with an odd squelching sound. I grabbed my stomach and attempted to quell the flow of blood. The pain was unpleasant, but I was busy focusing on other things.

Ten sticks lit up in my hands and I grinned. It was so much more fun when the explosions caught me too. The dynamite winked at me and I had to stop myself from laughing out loud. That one moment of distraction though was the end of everything. I turned quickly enough to see a man coming up behind me, but it was too late. I chucked the dynamite and made a run for it. The swordsman's eyes were wide and sad.

The last thing I remember is a bright light. Everyone always says don't go towards the light at the end of the tunnel. But I reached for it and let it hold me close. The dynamite was my only companion and I guess it's fitting that it stole me away. I heard the bright-eyed, spiky haired man yell one last time. He sounded upset. I can't fathom why. It's not like I ever cared for him.

At least, that's what I keep telling myself.

A/N: Hello! So that was rather odd, and I kind of left the ending a bit ambiguous on purpose. You're not really supposed to know what happened. I love the idea of an AU where Gokudera never met Tsuna and the gang, making him basically a really angsty and violent guy even more than he already is! I'd love some feedback so if you could review that'd be super special awesome hahah :)


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